


HISTORY

by blondae_pinkdae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Byun Baekhyun - Freeform, Character Death, EXO - Freeform, EXO-CBX, Gangs, Kim Jongdae - Freeform, Mafia EXO, Rivalry, kim minseok - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 18:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondae_pinkdae/pseuds/blondae_pinkdae
Summary: They were taught to keep your friends close and keep your enemies closer, but when you're friends with the enemy, it changes everything.





	HISTORY

**Author's Note:**

> Potential Trigger Warnings!
> 
> This work contains implications of suicide.
> 
> If you, or anyone you know, may be struggling with suicidal thoughts or tendencies, please don't be afraid to reach out for help by contacting your regional hotline. https://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines
> 
> you are enough, and you are loved. always remember that.

“ _ Jongdae! _ ”

The sound of his name pierced his ears over and over and over again. Confusion rippled through him at Baekhyun’s frantic screeching. Baekhyun’s gun fell from his rain-slick fingers and he was vaguely aware of several men fleeing the area at the first ring of sirens. Through the rain and the haziness of his vision, Jongdae could tell that there was a lot of blood.  _ Too much _ . And then Baekhyun’s hand were on him, desperately applying pressure as hard as he could, to a wound he couldn’t recall obtaining. He sucked in a sharp gasp when Baekhyun plunged his fingers into the entry point of the wound that was accompanied by an uncomfortable stinging sensation.

There was no other way to describe how his body felt but numb. Baekhyun’s hands were pressed down so tightly that his hands were practically laying flat on the cement. As the call of sirens grew nearer, something like panic clustered in Baekhyun’s features. His eyes frantically and sporadically searched and scanned the empty streets around them, landing on Jongdae for barely a fraction of a second. 

Jongdae opened his mouth, but the words that were ravaging his mind wouldn’t come out. Couldn’t. 

“Just hold on, Jongdae,” Baekhyun choked on every other word as he pushed his fingers deeper into the side of his abdomen, “Help is coming. It—”

Baekhyun was launched sideways and a paramedic took his place, spewing nonsense that Jongdae wouldn’t have understood if he hadn’t learned it all through the process of memorization and sheer dumb luck. Before he could even take in that he was mere minutes away from dying, a black ocean wave swallowed him up and refused to spit him out. 

~

When Jongdae finally came too, he hadn’t been expecting the low whisper bickering that caused his ears to perk up.

“ _ What was I supposed to do? _ ” 

Baekhyun. 

An unfamiliar sigh, “The bullet was just supposed to graze him, asshole. Just like it had been planned.” 

“You shouldn’t have been entrusted with a task as important and crucial as this to begin with,” a deep voice groaned, “You always let your feelings get in the way.”

When Jongdae allowed himself to peek through his lids, a small group of young men had gathered around his bed. Baekhyun stood at the foot of the narrow bed and several others that he recognized by both name and face—he would never let them know that—flanked him on either side. The weight of his gaze on Baekhyun’s profile inevitably caught his attention. One sharp intake of breath later, and the shifting of his weight from one leg to the other, his former best friend was barking for the others to leave them. 

“Baek—”

“Get out,” Baekhyun’s voice was a step above demanding, gaze never leaving Jongdae’s tired one. 

Slowly, they all followed one another through the sliding door until it was only them. A fatal silence settled along the artificial air around them, Jongdae was nearly convinced that he might have  _ actually _ died and was now having an out-of-body experience. Unfortunately, the way that Baekhyun’s stare weighed down on him heavier than it ever has told him otherwise. 

Baekhyun skirted around the edge of the bed and took a seat in the chair that had been pulled up on his right side, “You’re awake.”

“How unfortunate for you,” Jongdae stretched his neck ever so slightly to meet Baekhyun’s piercing blood-shot eyes, “Isn’t it, Byun?”

“Drop the bullshit,” A slight hint of irritation was hidden beneath the cold front of Baekhyun’s voice, “You were just shot.”

Even though it felt like a lung was about to collapse, Jongdae managed half of a sarcastic chuckle, “I guess that’s what makes this situation all the more unfortunate. Not for me, but for you.”

“If you have something to say, then say it.”

“We both know that you weren’t planning on grazing me,” Jongdae admitted, “I can already see those cogs turning in your mind, thinking of a way to use the rain as an excuse for how you managed to royally fuck up in front of your cadre.”

Baekhyun was silent for a long moment; neither a denial nor an acceptance of the truth than hung between them. 

“Why are you being like this?” His former friend’s voice was barely a whisper. 

Jongdae forced himself to swallow the shaky sigh that threatened to push past his lips, “Why are  _ you  _ suddenly being like this? We don’t owe each other a damn thing.”

“If you’re still mad about what happened two years ago, I—”

“Don’t you  _ fucking  _ dare bring that up,” Jongdae gritted through his teeth. His blood felt like it was set aflame by the deep anger than consumed his heart, “You have no right.”

Baekhyun ran his fingers through his thick white-blonde hair, gathering a fistful of it in his hands. Something like a frustrated groan filled the room. His hands sank into his lap as their eyes met, “You know Minseok wouldn’t want this.”

Jongdae mustered what strength he could, forcing himself into a sitting position. He threw his hand back across Baekhyun’s face  _ hard _ . It should have been impossible, he shouldn’t have even been able to sit properly—which he wasn’t—let alone summon enough strength to backhand Baekhyun in the way he had. Injured or not, he would never allow anyone scorn Minseok’s good name, especially Byun Baekhyun. 

Jongdae was seething, “ _ You have no  _ right _ to speak his name _ . Ever.” 

“Jong—”

“ _ No _ .” Jongdae fell back onto an elbow, lowering himself back on to the stiff hospital pillow, “When are you going to be satisfied? Do you need to get rid of  _ both _ of us before you can finally live a crimeless life?”

Baekhyun was still rubbing his fingers against the red prints that were quickly growing on his cheek, “You’re no holier than me. Stop acting like you’re a saint. Stop acting like we weren’t born into this god-forsaken life. Stop acting like we were given a choice.”

“We were given  _ many  _ opportunities to choose. Unless you have suddenly forgotten the pact that we had all made as teenagers.”

~

The Kims and the Byun’s have been running the most successful underground black market chain for nearly four generations, whose influence stretched as far and wide as America, and the three of them had grown up in the middle of it all. They were family in the loosest definition of the term. At the center of it all was their fathers, who controlled a ring that thrived off of the efforts and financial support of dozens of wealthy families across a cluster of large cities. They spent their childhood and adolescence being groomed by their mothers and fathers—any of them were lucky to have at least one parent—to step up and follow in their footsteps. Until they entered their mid-twenties when a power struggle between families over turf, drugs, even weapons, had sent their parents into a violent frenzy. At least twice in the last five years Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Minseok had been tasked with the chore of eliminating the other two. As the only sons of three powerful and vying families, it was their  _ duty  _ to defend the status of their respective families. Everything about their assignment disgusted them; they had been raised together and formed a friendship so impenetrable that absolutely nothing could get in the way of it. At least, that’s what Jongdae thought at the time. 

Early on in the sick and twisted game of cat and mouse, the three of them had decided that their only opportunity to maintain their close friendship was to abandon their felonious lives—their criminal families—and start over. They let their families believe the charade for  _ years _ , allowed them to believe that they were actively  _ hunting  _ each other—best friends, brothers—so that each of them could collect enough of their allowances in order to be able to sustain themselves. They had all of their basises covered: they had picked a day, time, and location to meet, and then they would be gone. They would be on the run, but as long as they had each other, they knew that every risk and gamble of their present would be worth it for their looming future together. 

The day prior to their escape, Jongdae called a meeting to go through their plan one last time with a fine-tooth comb. At that point in time, the anxiety was going to kill him from the inside out before his own father could if their efforts were to be discovered. They couldn’t afford to blow their one and only chance at leaving behind the toxic life that tainted their lineage. And to this day, Jongdae wished more than anything that he hadn’t called the meeting at all. 

He had been the first to arrive. Early was on time, on time was late, and late meant that something had gone horribly wrong. He waited for what felt like hours until Baekhyun arrived, kicking open the door with his usual  _ I-don’t-give-a-fuck _ demeanor with several knives and guns strapped at his waist. 

“Where have you been?” Jongdae inquired, he didn’t care if Baekhyun could tell that he was angry. Neither he nor Minseok had ever been late to a meeting, one that Jongdae was betting on to set him free, “And where is Minseok?”

Baekhyun strolled up to the table and placed the handguns flat against the metal surface of the table, “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“Minseok is  _ always _ the first one here,” Jongdae reminded him. They have been friends too long for him to forget, “What if something happened with his father? What if something happened with—”

Several excruciatingly loud popping noises echoed off of the metallic walls of the empty warehouse. Jongdae pulled his arms around his head in an effort to protect himself from the threat he had shut his eyes against. Before he could even process the flood of suited men bursting into the warehouse, a strong jab of the knee to the stomach knocked the wind out of him. His face connected with the floor  _ hard _ , he knew that there would be a bruise. He hadn’t even managed to catch his breath when he found Baekhyun’s lifeless face staring down at him. The man standing before him wasn’t his best friend, but a shell of the man who was supposed to be there. 

“Baek—Baekhyun—”

Baekhyun’s foot connected with his chest, shoving him down against the brutally solid black and white tile, “Just stay down there.”

Jongdae’s brows knitted with confusion and fear. It had to be a farce. It was all to save them. Word must have gotten out about their plan to escape and this was nothing more than a front to keep their efforts hidden. 

“Bring him,” Baekhyun beckoned to no one in particular as he pulled his foot from Jongdae’s chest, “You might want to stay down there for this, Kim.”

Jongdae could hear the familiar clicking of dress shoes against tile, but when he looked to see who Baekhyun had been referring to, his heart felt as if it had been ripped from his chest. 

“ _ Baekhyun _ …”

Baekhyun offered him a smirk and pulled one of the two guns off of the table, grazing his slim fingers against the barrel, “It’s just business.”

And at that very moment, one of the Byun lackies dumped Minseok’s cold lifeless body in front of him. 

_ No. _

_ No. _

_ No. _

Jongdae’s hands were shaking violently, he was almost afraid to touch Minseok, worried that he might wake him from whatever eternal slumber he was forced into. 

“M—Min—,” his voice hardly could have been considered a whisper, he wasn’t even entirely sure that he spoke the name, “Minseok, come on, wake up.” 

He shook Minseok’s shoulder lightly, and with each passing plea, each fleeting desperate cry, the harder he shook the bullet-riddled body. 

“Minseok, please,” Jongdae chuckled, “This isn’t funny.”

_ It’s all just a sick joke. Minseok’s alive. This is a nightmare. Baekhyun would never _ —

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae’s voice dropped several octaves. They were entering dangerous territory; an anger and sadness so deep and hot that he might as well have been standing in the pits of hell, getting ready to brawl with the devil himself, “What kind of game are you guys playing? What the  _ fuck _ is going on?”

The blonde looked down on him, a smirk steadily crawled up his face as he scratched his temple with the end of the barrel. Jongdae was sure that his heart was pounding so fast and so hard that everyone in the room could hear it as Baekhyun crouched down in front of him, “None of this,” he gestured around the room, to the dozens and dozens of hitmen all around them, “was ever your fault. Or his, for that matter,” he claimed as he finally closed Minseok’s eyes. 

Jongdae wanted to curl into a ball and let all of the pain that throbbed and burned in his chest pass. He wanted to close his eyes, only to open them to realize that he had fallen asleep while waiting for his friends, and find out that it was all just so god awful dream. 

~

“You killed our best friend— _ my  _ best friend, Baekhyun,” Hot tears ran down Jongdae’s face as he looked away from the elder, “Stop acting like you’re all high and mighty. You killed your own parents, you killed Minseok. You’ve killed all of these people who are supposed to be your family in order to get to where you are now. It makes me sick. Once I’m gone, once I’m out of the picture, and all of that power is  _ finally  _ yours...where does that leave you? Who is left for  _ you _ ? What person could love a monster like you?”

Looking at Baekhyun felt like a betrayal to Minseok. Just being alive felt like the biggest betrayal of them all. It should have been him; Jongdae had always hoped that if anyone was going to come out on top, if they should turn against one another, that it was going to be Minseok. Considering the line of work that has been passed down to them, for a long time, he imagined what it would have been like to bury someone who had become a rock in his life. The person who kept him sane when everyone else around him made him feel like throwing himself off of a balcony. Never did he imagine that he would outlive the person he couldn’t bear to live without. 

“In the last two years alone, you’ve tried to kill me nine times. Each attempt just as unsuccessful as the last,” Jongdae sighed, closing his eyes to shield against the harsh fluorescent lighting above, “Tonight, you would have finally had all that power sitting in your lap. For you, and only you, to manage for yourself, and yet…you saved me…”

It hadn’t been a question, but it hadn’t been a statement either. Jongdae dared to spare a glance in Baekhyun’s direction, who had turned a shade so pale it was nearly alarming. Another tear slipped from the corner of his eye as Minseok’s face flashed in his mind, “ _ Why _ ? Why did you do it?”

Baekhyun cleared his throat as he blinked away what Jongdae assumed was something close to tears, “You were always going to be the last one. If I was going to go against everyone that I cared about in my life to secure my position at the top, I promised myself that you would be last...”

“Why—”

“If I could kill my family, my best friends, then I could kill anyone.” Baekhyun confessed, “Breaking my own heart—killing you with my own hand—would have been easier than watching the three of us forcefully rip each other to shreds over something as trivial as territory.”

“We were your best friends, Baekhyun,” Jongdae’s voice was hoarse, “We would have followed you to the ends of this cruel and unforgiving world, if it meant being together...if you would have given us the chance to prove that to you things wouldn’t have ended like this.”

Baekhyun sighed; he closed his eyes and the river of tears flowed fast. He gripped the edge of the bed to keep himself from collapsing, “I loved him...I knew if I had asked him to leave everything behind, to leave without me, to go with you, he wouldn’t do it. I knew before any of us had even realized it that Minseok didn’t want this life for himself, for any of us. If I had told him that the two of you would be leaving and that I would be staying behind, he would have returned without question. We all know that our fathers wouldn’t let the three of us leave, one of us would have to stay behind.”

A hiccup echoed throughout the room, “Nothing I said was going to change his mind. I would have rather watched him die in front of my very eyes than watch him suffer for the rest of his life.”

Jongdae felt like he had the wind knocked out of him all over again, “Do you think Minseok would have wanted to die? Do you even understand how ridiculous you sound—how contradicting—” A frustrated groan ripped from his throat, “He didn’t want to leave you behind in this fucked up life, because he knew better than either of us how toxic this world is—how toxic our parents and families were. By killing him, you left him alone. By killing him...he  _ still _ left you alone. And you let me suffer in a world without him.”

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun whispered. It was the first time Baekhyun had apologized for anything.  _ Anything _ . “I knew leaving you for last was going to destroy you, but leaving you for last was also going to destroy  _ me _ .”

“Then why are you doing all of this?”

“On that day, I wished that you had the strength in that enormous heart of yours to kill me. All of those men that were there...those were my father’s men. They were instructed to kill me if I didn’t take out either of you—”

Jongdae rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe you. You were just trying to save your own skin. You knew that if you killed me first then Minseok would have told you to kill him, and we all know that you can’t let others have  _ any _ sort of power over you. So you killed him...instead of me. Which means you knew the minute Minseok’s lifeless body was dropped at my feet that I would fight back, that I would fight against you to avenge my best friend. And if I had been successful in killing you on that day, your father’s men would have killed me right then and there, sparing you the task of doing it yourself.”

Baekhyun pulled his gun from its concealed spot, tucked away at the small of his back, kept from prying eyes and stared at it for a moment too long. He spared Jongdae a knowing glance and threw the gun down onto the dull hospital blankets.

“And you can’t refute it, because you know I’m right...” Jongdae concluded. “Even after all of these years, I’ve got you all figured out.” 

The subtle bobbing of Baekhyun’s Adam’s apple was the only answer that he needed to confirm Baekhyun’s cowardice. Jongdae wrapped his fingers around the handle of the heavy handgun and studied it, even though he had used it for himself hundreds, maybe thousands, of times before in the past. A rogue tear trickled down as he placed the barrel against his forehead, an overwhelming frustration settling over him. 

Jongdae shuddered as he shook his head, “Tell me something, Baekhyun. What do you think is more dangerous? This gun…” the cool metal was digging deeper into the skin of his forehead as his fingers trembled, “Or my ability to control it?”

Baekhyun just stood at the edge of the bed, staring  _ hard _ as Jongdae’s finger inched closer and closer to a decision that made his heart race so much that his chest was beginning to ache. 

“Jongdae—”

“ _ What _ …” he calmly interrupted, “I’m dead anyways.”


End file.
